


Eight Days

by Lyrae_Immortalis



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: (could be seen as dancing), First Kiss, Grinding, Hugs, M/M, Mild Smut, Public Sex, Sensory Drunk Edward Nygma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 22:06:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11975997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrae_Immortalis/pseuds/Lyrae_Immortalis
Summary: Ed and Oswald indulge in a hug after spending a significant time apart.This is a side ficlet forJust One Look at You, where a hug between Ed and Oswald continues on to be something more.Can be read on its own.





	Eight Days

It isn’t the thumping of the music that sends Ed’s heart racing, nor the overcrowded room. It isn’t even the feeling of one too many drinks coursing through him. It’s the subtle touch of Oswald’s hands as they come to rest on Ed’s waist that makes his head spin. Eight days was entirely too long of a time to be spent apart and despite his attempts to distract himself, Ed couldn’t keep his mind from drifting back to Oswald.  _It’s always been him._ What he wouldn’t have given to hear his voice, to see his face, to reach out and touch him just as he can now. His imagination could not compare to the physical, emotional and mental sensations his reality offers freely. Craning his neck, Ed trails his nose up and down the expanse of Oswald’s throat, chasing the delicate undertones of his musk-based perfume.

 

“I’ve missed you,” he confesses, eyelids falling closed, weighed down by the headiness that is consuming him. Replacing the tip of his nose with the softest whisper of his lips, Ed mouths down Oswald’s neck, narrowly resisting the urge to flick out his tongue to taste him. Oswald shudders and Ed takes notice of the way his grip tightens, fingers curling and pressing firmer. If he had access to the smallest semblance of his mental faculties Ed  _might_ have been able to retain the sound his name part Oswald’s lips, for when it reaches his ear, it’s almost  _erotic_. 

 

“I’ve missed you,” Ed repeats as his hands transverse Oswald’s back, tracing his muscles and skeletal structure, taking in every fiber of his shirt. Ed perceives it all, his senses have never felt more alight, awash in all that is Oswald. The warmth seeping into his body, the low thumps of the music that echo within, the  _smells_. Only sight and taste avoid Ed as he nuzzles his cheek against Oswald’s, connection met and reciprocated.

 

Ed inches closer, all background stimulus melts away as his hand shift to Oswald’s front, cascading over his shoulders and down his chest. His name—“ _Ed_ ”—sounds again. Is it in warning or in praise? He cannot tell. All Ed knows is that Oswald is not pushing him away, in fact it is quite the opposite; he is clutched closer, arms curling around him, palms splayed on his back, ever moving. A tingle runs through Ed’s body, traversing every nerve and this is the moment he becomes aware of his arousal.

 

“ _Oswald_ ,” Ed breathes, almost beggingly into his ear. His digits shake as he grasps Oswald’s shirt, desperate to find an anchor point, something to solidify his connection to the world before he is washed away.  _Oh, but I can't,_ Ed realises, cheeks burning. This is more intense than any fantasy or fleeting desire. It’s all-consuming, something he never wishes to part from. Struggling to voice his need, Ed mouths along Oswald’s collar, lips brushing the porous fabric and the pale smooth skin above it.

 

Oswald’s ministrations are innocently exploratory, they don’t dip or dive anywhere that would be unsavory in their current setting but Ed’s body reacts in turn, heart thumping wildly, sending his blood coursing through him, resulting in a curl of his toes. “ _Please_ ,” Ed whimpers, lips coming to rest on Oswald’s pulse-point, with shallow breaths parting them.

 

A nudge to his head sees Ed drawing back a fraction, eyes fluttering open. When they come into focus Ed gasps, breath held at the darkened nature of Oswald’s green orbs. Never before has Ed seen such a glance, least of all directed at  _himself_. Their connection is held for a split second, Oswald staring inquisitively, before smiling out one corner of his mouth as he disconnects from their  _hug_.

 

Without even having the chance to voice a question— _or create one_ —Ed is lead through the crowd to the darker side of the room. The faces of the people they squeeze past blur in his mind as his  _entire_ focus centers on the feeling of Oswald’s hand wrapped around his own, guiding him forward. Since the day he first met Oswald, Ed has dreamed about him, fulfilling fantasies and conducting conversations their past relationship forbade. Things are changing again and for once Ed is pleased and unfazed with the direction.

 

Oswald draws him close, palm resting on his lower back, and Ed is hopeless to deny him anything he wants. To an outsider, they appear but a couple dancing, only they are scarcely even moving, resorting back to their former hold on each other, only without the minuscule barrier Ed maintained to keep himself in check. Every line of Oswald’s body meets his own and… _oh gosh_ , when their hips align all Ed wants to do is bury his face in the crook of Oswald’s neck to save him from embarrassing himself. Instead, he resorts to clenching his eyes shut when a hand cups his jaw, holding him upright.

 

Almost immediately Ed tilts his head and drops kisses up Oswald’s thumb, lips wet with saliva. The two men shift on their feet and something tugs in Ed’s lower abdomen, withdrawing a moan he attempts to omit.

 

“ _Ed_ ,” Oswald rasps. The sound of his voice is too deep: Ed’s hips rock forward, body seeking what it needs. No longer is he working with want and desire…only Oswald. His hands tighten around Oswald’s forearms, clenching as his skin begins to prickle. He knows this sensation, the one that preludes the zapping and the eventual override of his mind. Ed is desperate for it, for  _Oswald_. 

 

Whimpering at the next brush of their arousals, Ed sinks his teeth into Oswald’s thumb and pants shallowly as a curse reaches his ears.

 

All of a sudden the hand is ripped off his face, the one on his lower back disappears, too. His burning cheeks are cupped as he is dragged down to meet Oswald’s lips. The first slip of their mouths is what seals Ed’s fate. He presses firmly into Oswald’s body, hips thrusting as he releases a sob of unmitigated relief. This is all he’s ever wanted, something far grander than his mind could create. Something tangible,  _breathtaking_. Ed doesn’t stop kissing Oswald, even as his inner lining of his underwear is coated in a sticky mess and small droplets of sweat roll down his back. He clings tighter groaning as his blood ignites with the spark of life. Who knew he would find such ecstasy in the darkened corner of a club.

**Author's Note:**

> If you read this, enjoy it and have yet to read [Just One Look at You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11214234/chapters/25052238), then I think I know where you need to go.


End file.
